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The enthusiasm of the elders seems to be divided now.
Francine waves Summer’s words away, looking annoyed. “Thank you, Summer, but we don’t need a campaign speech. This isn’t an election. The position of high priestess is for Mother Gaia to choose.”
“Of course. My apologies, Elder Francine. I’m simply passionate about restoring witches to our former glory.”
Elder Francine moves down to the next station. “Beatris, what about you?”
Beatris’ potion doesn’t sound that interesting and honestly, I zone out and stop listening. I’m next, and I need to gather my thoughts.
My potion isn’t as flashy as Summer’s. It’s not going to give anyone supernatural powers or heightened abilities. But as long as it doesn’t explode—or worse, make the elders explode—I think I have a good chance of moving on to the next trial.
“Josephine?”
My turn.
“What have you made for us today?”
I swallow, but the lump gets stuck in my throat.
As Elder Francine and the pale blonde woman approach my station, my hands are steady, though my heart beats with a nervous anticipation. I carefully pick up a small, elegantly curved bottle filled with a shimmering, rosy liquid.
The potion inside glows softly, reflecting the flickering candlelight of the room.
“Elders,” I begin, my voice clear despite the flutter in my chest. “I present to you the Truth’s Whisper. This elixir is crafted for moments when the mind and emotions are in conflict, making it difficult to discern the path one must take.”
I pour a small amount into each of the shot glasses I brought for the elders. The liquid’s luminescence casts a warm glow on their intrigued faces. “When consumed, the potion acts to quiet the noise of logic and fears, allowing the drinker to connect deeply with their core activator and, if needed, Mother Gaia’s will. It clears the mental fog and sharpens emotional insight, providing clarity without inner turmoil.”
The elders each take a little glass and sip it.
“This is quite unique, Josie,” Elder Francine remarks after a moment, her voice tinged with a rare warmth. “It’s gentle yet profound. I feel a soothing clarity, as if layers of uncertainty are being peeled away.”
An older black woman with silver braids meets my gaze and smiles. “It’s like hearing my soul more clearly. There’s a peace in that, a very special kind of magic.”
Relief washes over me, mingling with a blossoming pride. The judges move on to the next contestant, but their lingering smiles and the light in their eyes tell me that Truth’s Whisper has made its mark.
Blessed be, Mother Gaia.
RUNE
“To Josephine Dumont, Sun Witch extraordinaire and the future High Priestess of New Orleans.” Standing on our table at Club Sanguine, I hold my arm in the air and toast Josie to the room.
We’re on the mixed paranormal floor, so Phi, Elara, and Tavor can join the celebration. Finn is here too, and thankfully, our shared affection for Josie is keeping his mood swings at bay.
“To Josie,” Elara shouts in response.
Josie grabs my leg and tugs at me to sit down. “Get off the table, Viking. You’re embarrassing me. You’re going to get us kicked out.”
I jump down to reclaim my seat and laugh. “It’s our club, remember? We can do whatever we want, and no one can say boo.”
Josie looks like she wants to argue, but it won’t matter. I’m right. “Well, even so. You need to slow your roll on declaring me the high priestess. There is still one trial to go and Summer and Beatris are two very talented witches to beat.”
“A mere formality,” I say, sinking into my chair. “Everyone knows you’re going to win. You’re Josie-freaking-Dumont. Your people have always been in the favor of your goddess.”
Josie giggles and finishes her drink. “My people, huh? Well, my people have made mistakes along the way, too. Mother Gaia will choose based on the witches at hand, not based on who my mother and grandmother were.”
“As she should,” Finn says, finishing his beer before standing up. “Ye’ll win solely based on yer own merits. We know it, and in two days’ time, the entire community will know it.”
“I hope you win, Josie.” The creole witch from the group of five steps up to our table. “What you did for me—giving me your moonlace petals—was very kind.”
